


let me

by scarletsymphony



Series: getting ghetto married in your picturesque suburb [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Biting, Bruises, F/M, Introspection, Loss of Virginity, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Scratching, initially undernegotiated mild kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletsymphony/pseuds/scarletsymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's not like we're going to get married." she said, that first time, when she asked him to take her virginity. On her parents' bed. At that point in time she was 90% daddy issues and he was sort of an asshole, so it really should have been a hot mess, but somehow, it worked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me

**Author's Note:**

> When this queer lady woke up this morning she did not expect to find herself writing mildly kinky het porn, but here we are. This is unbetaed, and I'm planning to turn it into a series, with marginally more plot (but still plenty of porn): if there's anyone out there willing to beta, drop me a line. Otherwise, criticism of all kinds is welcome here.

"It's not like we're going to get married." she said, that first time, when she asked him to take her virginity. On her parents' bed. At that point in time she was 90% daddy issues and he was sort of an asshole, so it really should have been a hot mess, but somehow, it worked. She tells him she's on the pill, but he pulls out a condom anyway — he learned his lesson with Karen. She's all over him once he's agreed, biting his neck, squeezing his dick, going down on him faster than he can blink until he's so hard he's dizzy with it.

In no time he's hovering over her spread legs, condom on, and she's staring up at him with a curious, almost detached look on her face, like she sometimes gets when she's blowing him and he's close. He's suddenly overcome with the urge to make it good for her, make that distant look turn into something more — present. He bring his hand down to rub over her labia, fingers slipping into the wet slick of her folds; he rubs, and she shifts her hips, brows furrowing in confusion until — there — he's found her clit.

He circles it slowly, lightly, feeling her breathing speed up. She's watching him intently now, and he finds himself watching back as he slips a finger into her. She's really tight, and he feels a twinge of guilt tinged excitement — he probably should have thought to do this anyway — that he pushes down. He brings his free hand up to stroke at her hair, bracing himself over her on his elbow and crooking his finger inside her.

She gasps, and he actually sees her nipples stiffen, which is just so fucking hot — his dick twitches, and he starts trying to add another finger, even though she's so tight — but she's frowning up at him through her pleasure, looking confused and uncertain, eyes flickering sideways to the hand in her hair. "Are you actually planning on fucking me?" she asks in that blunt, tactless way she says everything. Lip finds his hand curling in frustration, and before he realizes what he's doing he has her hair in a tight grip. He hastily lets go and is about to apologize before he notices the way her mouth drops open, the way her hips shift up, slightly.

So he does it again, this time curling the finger inside of her, and her hips jerk, mouth open in an silent oh. He works a second finger in that way, grip tight on her hair, and she makes a small hurt sound and gushes around his fingers, pupils blown and staring sightlessly up at him. He smirks then, and because he really is kind of an asshole, says, "Be patient." He bends his head and bites hard at her collarbone. "F-fuck you." she says, but her voice is thready and ends on a moan. When he gets a third finger in her she stills, clenching hard around him, teeth grinding. He pulls at her hair and she arches into it. "Relax." he murmurs into her ear and almost to his surprise, she does, taking deliberate deep breaths, in and out.

He curves his fingers then, experimentally and she shifts her hips, relaxing further. She looks up at him, mouth shiny, eyes glazed and says. "Fuck me. Please."

So he does. He takes it slow, sinking into the heat of her incrementally, watching her open mouth tremble and her brow furrow in concentration. When he's all the way in he pauses, asks, "Are you okay?"

She presses her lips together, head turning away, into the sheets. "Hurts." she says, voice tight. He brings his hand up to stroke down her arm, but she grabs it, grip tight, and not looking at him, she says, "I want you to fuck me anyway." Her nails dig into his arms. "Hard."

So he fucks her, slowly at first, watching her carefully. After a minute of this she begins to protest, "Hey, I said —" he leans down close, and she inhales sharply, trailing off, staring up at him with wide eyes. Slowly, very slowly, he brings his hand up and lays it on her throat, and squeezes, lightly, once. Her eyes slide close and she exhales on a groan, and it's blindingly hot. He kisses her then, until they're both breathless.

When they pull away, he says, "I heard what you said, and you'll get what you want if you be. patient." He emphasizes the last two words with light squeezes. She swallows thickly against his hand, but rolls her eyes, thrusting her hips sharply up into him. He gasps, rocking into her, and he's fucking her again, steady and building up speed and it's so _good_ and he could come like this but first he wants to — he rubs two fingers over her nipple, then pinches it, hard. She gasps and thrusts her hips up again. He scratches her then, across the curve of her breast, and watches her moan, close her eyes.

It makes him speed up, fuck her hard like she asked, and suddenly they're both gasping into each other's mouths and he brings his hand down in between them to rub blindly at her, and he's coming, finishing in a couple of hard thrusts. After a couple of still moments he moves off her, and when she inhales sharply, he realizes she's still — he reaches out, palm grinding into her clit, hand tugging roughly on her nipples and after a minute of quiet moans she arches into his hand and comes in a series of shuddering breaths. He continues to touch her through the aftershocks, letting her ride it out, watching her face.  Afterwards, he gets up to get rid of the condom — burying it deep in the garbage can of her parents' ensuite.

When he comes back she has her shirt and panties on, and is lying on her back, fingers laced over her stomach. She watches him put on his boxers and climb in next to her. He hesitates, and she puts her hand out.  "No cuddling." He acquiesces, lying down next to her, but not touching, staring up at the pristine white ceiling of her parent's room. The weird thing is the first thing he notices isn't how clean it is, but how high it is — he guesses rich people can afford to have more space between them and their ceilings.

He turns his head to look at her, and she's still watching him, intent, but oddly blank otherwise. He reaches out, touches the inside of her wrist. "You okay?" he asks, and her mouth quirks. "My parents will be here soon. We should go."

Next time they fuck it's in her room. She pushes him into a chair, get a condom on, leans close and tells him her safeword is Boston. Then she sits on his dick and fucks him like she has something to prove. It's pretty hot.

And so it goes, for the next two weeks and when they get back to school. She'll still drop to her knees and unzip his jeans, unannounced, or sit on his lap and demand he fuck her, but now he'll pull her hair when she's going down on him, hold her down by her wrists and fuck her hard.

It's different than anything he's done before. Yeah, he and Mandy got rough sometimes, especially when they were both drunk, high and very, very horny. But Mandy gave as good as she got, scratching lines down his back and pushing back hard when he slapped her ass. And Karen, well — Karen demanded the attention she wanted, put him exactly where she wanted him.  Amanda was like neither of them, seemed almost passive until he reached out and touched, scratched, bit down. Then she opened up, gasping and grabbing at him, always so responsive, so needy.

Lip thought it was hot as hell.

And once in a while, after some sorority event she'd drag him to, after the first midterms of his sophomore year came back, she'd let him have more. She's let him slap her, hurt her, throw her down until she was sopping wet and begging for him to fuck her. And he would, one hand fisted in her hair, pressing fingers into newly formed bruises. Afterwards she'd let him hold her close, head buried into his chest, breathing in and out, quietly, carefully. He'd hold her, stroke her hair, and let the part of himself that wondered if he was a terrible person untwist, feeling her warm, curled up, _trusting_ in his arms.

The next day she'd be up before him, handing him coffee, organizing his life as ruthlessly and efficiently as ever, pointing him in whatever direction and expecting him to go. He'd sip his coffee and watch her, then went where she pointed.

She was still 90% daddy issues and he was definitely an asshole. Maybe it wasn't entirely healthy. But somehow, it worked.


End file.
